The Found Arcana – Third Interlude [IC]
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The Found Arcana – Third Interlude [IC]
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Jawsey had been a bit slow to wake up enough to do anything, and then had slipped into the astral to take a look. Even without being able to see the guns too well it had been obvious enough what was going on.
When he got to his body he found that Bobby had sent even worse news moments before. Jawsey sent <<I don’t know how much help my spirits will be, I don’t have command of wind or water, but I guess another pair of hands can’t hurt, and I can call one who can use my levitate spell>>
He rolled out of bed and grabbed the blanket, then rushed to the washroom. He soaked the blanket, then dumped it on top of the the bucket of water they kept for when the water pressure disappeared, then hurried to Bobby’s window — hearing that Bobby was on the roof, the way he’d gotten there was apparent.
At the window he summoned a spirit and commanded it to carry full containers of water up to the roof when they were handed out, and to bring empty ones back down to the window when they were left for it near the edge of the roof. As the spirit started carrying the bucket, and its soaked blanket, up to the roof, Jawsey hurried to the kitchen to grab their largest pots and bring them back up to the washroom to fill up and take to the spirit. As he went he sent <<Bobby, I’ve set up my spirit as part of a bucket brigade. It will bring water as fast as I can deliver some to it, and will bring the empties down if you toss them back near the edge of the roof. Call if you need me up there more than fetching water, or if we need to evacuate.>>
As he grabbed their largest pots and turned back to the stairs he groaned at the though of how his back would feel tomorrow — but sometimes you just had to deal.
Spoiler:summon spirit of man, F3+1=4: 7d6t5 2
spirit resist: 4d6t5 1
drain vs 2: 13d6t5 2
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The quick work of the bucket brigade helps stamp out a fire that could have spread quickly in the high winds. The fire is soon out, although there is now a hole in the roof and some missing shingles that will need to be addressed. If there’s a deluge tonight, there might be some water damage and leaky ceilings soon after.
With the immediate threat extinguished, attention returns to the running gun battle. The Brain Eaters are about parallel with the SIS headquarters while the Crimson Crush are about thirty meters up the street.
In fact, one of the Brain Eaters takes shelter behind the stoop that leads up to the HQ’s door. The Crimson Crush open fire on him with their automatic weapons and tattoo the building with bullets!
Maybe it’s windy, maybe they’re drunk on hurlg and jumpy on combat stims, maybe they’re not used to recoil, or maybe they’re bad shots, but the Crush absolutely riddle the HQ with dozens of rounds. Their spray’n’pray tactics shatter the windows facing the street, pockmark the front door, and chew up the garage door.
AM, running for the car, has to screech to a stop and dive behind cover to avoid flying shrapnel. Jawsey can hear the window glass shattering, and see chunks being ripped out of the ceiling as bullets fly through the vacant windows. Bobby is (mostly) safe in his perch, as few bullets stray so high as the roof, but one or two zing near his head and let him know that he might not want to test his luck for too long.
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AM drops to the floor on the first sight of troubles, the last thing she wants is to be in the middle of a gunfight in her PJ’s. However, her deck is safe with her, and the next most expensive piece of equipment is the car itself. She makes her way to the car, returns the power, opens the garage door, and drive out of there. Making the car invisible so that people would not instinctively fire at her.
After all, the SIS building is only rented, but the car is their own property.
>> I took the car out for safety, it would cost a fortune to fix it. I suggest you turn into bats or something and GTFO unless you really want to take sides in gang wars or die in the crossfire. She texts and thinks at Bobby to make sure that the message comes across.
Spoiler:Invisibility F4: 2#10d6t5 4 2 1 drain, 4 hits invisibility.
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Bobby frowned down at the gunfight from behind his cover. He had decided he didn’t like the Crimson Crush guys. The Braineaters had shown a much more subtle touch in their way of doing business.
But of course he couldn’t really risk getting involved in this if he and the rest of SIS wanted to keep doing business here.
But then, he wasn’t keen on letting those CC assholes shoot at his home. Wading in their midst as a Kodiak had a ceratin allure, but that was a sure fire way of getting himself killed – and his friends and colleagues with him.
The fire at least was under control. “Hm, fire control.”
Without thinking about it to much, he broke the connection he had to AM and established a new one to the unfortunate BE ganger who had decided to take cover on their doorstep:
‘Hey, I’m your friendly neighbor telepath. If you want to get out of there alive be ready to pull back when the diversion hits.’Again, he broke the connection, only now noticing the blood seeping from his nose. When had that happened?
AM had killed the lights in their house and unplugged their stuff, turning their house dark. But plenty of the other buildings still illuminated the street and one remaining street light near enough to prevent the unfortunate ganger from making a quick retreat. Lot’s of orks with the CC that could see well in that kind of lighting conditions. But would they have the same amount of tolerance for sudden bright light?
Bobby let the transformation ripple over him almost without thought. As a black banded owl he was practically invisible in this night sky. The strong wind was a problem, but not an insurmountable one.
He took flight across the street, where and old fashioned transformer set a top a tall pole, providing power to the immediate neighborhood.
Down below the firefight raged on, but the BE ganger had to be out of ammo soon.
Bobby’s small owl body flared up with electricity. All it took was a slight touch with his beak to the trafo casing. With a huge shower of sparks the whole case exploded and the illegal hook up that provided power to the noodle shop came loose.
Immediately, the whole block lost power and plunged the area into darkness after the sudden bright light.
Bobby meanwhile tried to stay conscious and land somewhere safely.
Spoiler: -
Jawsey was keeping well below window level, but the flare of light was impossible to miss, nor the deeper level of darkness that settled in after it.
Darkness like that seemed like it would help create fear, and fear was something he could work with.
He took a moment to clear his mind, then called for Granny Iron-Teeth to show up, calling her at a greater strength than he’d ever dared before. He knew she’d as happily eat him as obey him, and whether or not he could keep her under control he wasn’t sure. But when she showed up, iron-teeth clanging and her eyes all red and glowering, he quickly requested “Please go outside of here to the street, and deal with anyone who is shooting towards our house. Scare them, chase them, do what you will with them to show what happens to those who attack your house — you have leave to depart if they manage to hurt you.“
The grumbles and hatred in her thoughts scraped at Jawsey’s thoughts, but she gave a terrifying smile and agreed “I’ll hunt them, for now.“
After she was gone Jawsey found himself trembling, almost more afraid of his own spirit than of the bullets. After a moment he starting crawling to his bedroom, where he recovered his sword, then went out to watch astrally — he could enforce his will on Granny better this way as well as see what was happening.
Spoiler:summon spirit F5 (4+1): 11d6h5 3
spirit resist: 5d6t5 1
drain resist: 13d6t5 3
2 services, no drain
Note: per the original house rules in this game, this spirit will tend to test the leash with Jawsey, but hopefully he is giving it a task enough to its taste to keep it busy.
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Jawsey gently tells Granny Iron-Teeth “They are primed for combat, suddenly appearing will just make them shoot at you, like happened. Try another one, but you likely need to play with his fears of death, dishonor, or being outsmarted. Their group has been attacked by flying things that explode when they are close, that might be a fear you can work with”
The spirit snarled and scratched at Jawsey’s mind, insulted at being given advice, but after long moment it turned its focus to making a ganger. The orc rapidly gained the conviction that something was zooming in on him from the sky, about to end his life in a flash. The tall orc suddenly broke his cover and started dashing back the way they had came, zigging back and forth to avoid the hypothetical drone, with Granny flying behind making a high pitched hiss (which frankly sounded more like a tea-kettle than a drone, but it seemed to be doing the job all the same).
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From the Crimson Crush’s perspective, it’s all a very confusing sequence of events.
The garage door opens. Unexpected, but okay. But then there’s a terrific explosion and a shower of sparks! They stop shooting for a few moments to drop into cover and instinctively shield their eyes.
Then there’s a squeal of tires as AM peels out of the garage and guns the Americar down the street, trying not to run over Brain Eaters who – wisely – are sprinting away as fast as they can.
Bobby’s light show buys the Brain Eaters ten or twelve seconds to open up some distance between themselves and the Crush. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or their clarity from not being blitzed on hurlg, but the Eaters take Bobby’s telepathic advice (which seems to have been shared with the group) and haul hoop. That’s worth the better part of 100 meters, which is enough to put them largely out of range of the Crush’s machine pistols and SMGs.
But then, far from pursuing the Eaters, one of the Crush breaks ranks and starts running the other way! His arms are up around his face as he’s screaming and zig-zagging. Even a bit buzzed, the Crush are smart enough (or dumb enough) to conclude that he must have seen a minidrone, which rattles the entire group, who dive into Dumpsters, through windows, or any other direction they think will spare them from an explosive death.
AM
AM is racing down the street. She passes by a couple Brain Eaters who are leaning on each other, trying to help each other run. One looks like he was shot in the leg while the other seems to have an abdomen wound of some sort. They don’t look to be in immediate danger of bleeding to death, but they’re definitely moving slower than the others. Also, the fraggers are running down the middle of street, slowing AM’s progress. Since the car is invisible, they don’t know to get out of the way. Evidently they’re too scared or occupied with self-preservation to hear it.
Bobby and Jawsey
The imagined threat passes. After a few explosion-less moments, the Crush emerge to assess the situation.
“Frag it!” one of them curses, kicking the trash can he was hiding in.
The Crush start to gather in the middle of the street. Several of them maintain a defensive perimeter around the core group, keeping an eye open for threats. In the middle group, Bobby and Jawsey recognize the female ork from Bobby’s street fight, the one who backed up the spokesman. “What’s the score?” she asks calmly.
“Fragged two of them. At least two or three more are bleeding, don’t know how bad.”
The female ork nods. “We’ll pinch them off.”
“They’ll run straight back to K-E.”
The female gives a little shrug that seems to say, “So?”
“They’ve got the cops in their pocket,” the other Crush explains.
The female shakes her head and wags a forefinger. “No, it’s the other way around. The Eaters are like the cops’ pets, the toothless terriers that are tolerated. The cops aren’t going to die for their street mutts.”
“K-E is like a fortress,” one of the trolls rumbles.
A little smirk appears on the female’s face, like she thinks it might be fun. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends,” she says, which suggests that she might have an education that lasted past middle school.
The Crush gather and run off after the Eaters, looking for blood trails or hints of any wounded that they can finish off.
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It is only in the car, after exiting the combat when AM realizes her emotions on the subject. She drops the spell a few blocks away, and when she becomes upset. The tears swallow, and her heart races when she realizes that she has nowhere else to go.
“They trashed my home, I could have been hurt – and I paid all the fortune I made to the Mafia so that I cannot afford a freaking hotel room… Not in a place without rats. Could life get any more miserable than that? What is the freaking point?”
She speaks, to herself, anxiously waiting for a text that it is safe to go back. Feeling completely lost, and without thinking about it, she drives to a point with a good view of the lake. The city looks so attractive from that perspective, one can forget that it is all gangs, and violence and misery.
It is only then when she texts >> I am fine, the car is fine. You guys okay? I’ll relax and come back to survey the damages. We’ll call in some favors and fix it, somhow or perhaps sell one of the cars.
Spoiler:Composure: 10d6t5 2 Not a total butch, but being shot at in her own home is a lot to process for the little elf.
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Bobby regained his ability to see only slowly. The flash had been excessive and despite dropping the power immediately he had still gained another burn.
‘Some of these days I have to think these things through more thoroughly.’
Still, his hearing as an owl was intact and he followed the discussion with interest.
When he felt well enough to fly again, he returned to his room and regained his human form.
Putting on the trode net, he saw the messages in the group chat.
“Things are under control, the Braineaters got away and the Crush is hunting them. I’ve probably trashed the trafo across the street, so we won’t have power for the immediate future. We have to wait for tomorrow to see what other damage the gang war caused. Oh and if we want the Braineaters to ever again regain control around here, Jawsey should ask one of his spirits to get rid of the blood trails the BE have left. Maybe a beast spirit could control a bunch of rats to get the job done.”
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AM drives back, doing breathing exercises to calm herself with partial success. She parks the car outside the garage, knowing that it would take some help to open it without electricity.
Then she exits the car to survey the damages, “If someone does not win this war quickly, we’ll be out of business. “
She texts them from the way >> It was terrifying. How do we make sure that none of these gangers ever gets near our home again? I gave up on walk-ins when they started killing each other, but I do not feel like being shot upon at home.
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The commotion of the gun fight has passed, but a new commotion arises. The winds carry weeping and wailing up and down the street. It’s clear that you’re not the only ones who had bullets flying into your home, and that some of the others were not so lucky as you.
“He’s dying!”
“Can I get a doctor here?!” The question is absurd and seems to have been asked out of habit instead of real expectation that a professional would respond. It’s followed by a more reasonable, “Does anyone have a medkit?!”
“Put pressure on it!”
“Elevate it!”
“i’m cold… i’m cold…”
The astral space is a mess. There’s a background count of violence and bloodshed hanging over the neighborhood, intermixed with all the usual misery and hopelessness which just seem all that much more acute right now. It twists your stomach like a bad burrito.
The neighborhood is cast in darkness. Occasionally a beam of a flashlight will circle a room, or maybe a candle will be lit, but without the moon and without electric lights, it’s intensely dark by city standards. It’s easier to hear, even if you can’t see where it’s coming from.
“I can’t see what I’m doing!”
“There, quickly!”
“HELP! Somebody HELP!”
“Don’t you die on me! Don’t you dare!”
“i don’t want to go…”
There are cries in the darkness, too many to respond to.
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AM stops the car and declares “I am a healer, where are you?” She will heal anyone that is wounded, and if a medic kit presents itself would make sure that mundane healing is given a chance.
Spoiler:If needed:
Healing: 2#10d6t5 2 4
Healing drain: 2#10d6t5 3 5
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Bobby replied to Jawsey: <<I don’t know, but if this doesn’t get better, we have to ask the Yakuza to tidy up within the gangs. Or I’m going to sneak into the Crimson Crush headquarters and geek there leader.>>
The cries for help are painful to hear and Bobby is painfully aware, that he has no ability to help…
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As she tends to the wounded, AM is fully integrated to the matrix >> I was thinking of calling the Yakuza. My first time getting shot at like that, and I do not stomach it very well. It was terrifying but they can’t aim for shit.
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The astral was sickening, although Jawsey had gotten used to that from their neighborhood and it didn’t bother him so much anymore. He took a minute to map out how the astral may have changed, then returned to his body.
The shot out windows let in the cries of the dying and despairing, not making meat-space any more pleasant than the astral. Jawsey thought about going out there, but he honestly didn’t know anything about tending wounds. Perhaps something he should learn, they did say that med-kits were so good that the user was mostly just a pair of hands. But that skill and equipment was in the future, there was little he could do right now.
<<Or we see if we can afford to move somewhere a little better? Has this neighborhood ever gone long without a gang war?>>
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AM races off into the darkness, searching for the source of the cries. Her low-light vision helps her identify a bobbing flashlight that seems to correspond with some of the shouting. It’s in an apartment on the second story. She goes to the front door of the building but it’s locked! Usually she’d hack it, but with the power out the maglock has defaulted into locked mode and can’t be directly accessed. Except, oh wait, the glass of the door has been shot out, so all AM has to do is snake one of her skinny wrists inside – carefully avoiding the broken glass – to open the door from the other side.
Once inside, she races up the stairs and down the hallway, following the cries. It’s pitch-black so even with her elven eyes she has to run a hand along the wall to feel her way along. She finds the right door and knocks. After a moment, she realizes knocking is pointless so she just opens the door and goes inside.
She finds a family in the kitchen / dining room, which has (had) a window facing the street. A human father – dark skinned – is feverishly trying to hold a flashlight while attending to his teenage son, who has been shot in the chest. The mother is there too – human, light-skinned – but is lazily applying a tourniquet to her own badly bleeding arm. She has a far-away look in her eyes that tells AM that she’s not altogether there.
The son is skinny and has blended skin that makes him look a bit like AM, just with rounded ears. He has a hole in his chest that a bloody, bubbling foam is emerging from. He’s coughing up blood, which is smeared all over the linoleum floor.
“Help us!” the father cries desperately.
AM races over and begins her casting. Her effort is mediocre, at best. It seals up the hole in the kids chest, but he’s still choking and convulsing.
“He still has blood in his lungs! He’s going to drown in his own blood!” the father despairs. He might be right; AM knows that her casting was surface-level, at most, and that there could be internal injuries that her magic didn’t reach. But she’s at least slowed down Death, and maybe bought the kid a few more minutes.
She turns her attention to the mother, who is in shock. AM puts her hands around the woman’s bloody arm and this time delivers a much more robust healing. The long, jagged wound stretching up the woman’s wrist and forearm – the type of wound someone might make if they were trying to commit suicide – knits itself together neatly. AM can’t help but wonder if this is the work of Iktomi, to deliver more healing to the one who needed it less. The woman is still in shock, but a measure of color returns to her pale face.
“We need get him to a doctor!” the father implores. “Or a trauma patch. Anything! Please!“
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” I just killed him” AM realizes with horror, as one of the nasty side effects of the healing spell is nullifying first aid. Not that first aid would be applied by the time she gets him down to a doctor. There is actually one more thing that she can do for him, but it would drain her completely if the kid survives though it is all worth it. She casts the growth spell to make him stronger, and more healthy.
While the spell is not intended for healing, the healthier body can take more torment before giving up, and it would in principle heal faster. That is the kind of creativity Iktomi would want her to use – but would it be enough?AM instantly feels the drain of the spell, but not as bad as she feared. Now she’ll need to sustain it long enough – long enough to do what exactly? Perhaps Long Haul long would allow her to stay awake for a few days, but that is worries for the next hours. The kid needs a doctor to survive the night.
“I did what I can for him. We need to get him to a clinic, I can drive you but where do you want to take him?”
>> Bobby, Jawsey Levitate in this darkness is unsafe. I may trip and lose line of sight for the spell, I’ll need someone to physically carry the kid.
Spoiler: -
<< Turn on your locator, I’m coming right over >>
Bobby didn’t know why he was eager to help, but he felt just a bit guilty for killing all light in the neighborhood.
He rationalized that having the gangs stop firing around was probably saving more lives in the long run, but it just didn’t feel like it.
He wasn’t the fastest in human form, and he guessed, he would need greater strength anyway. So he once again dropped his trousers and turned into a more mobile form.
[Spoiler] Body boost: 8d6t5 1 Shape change F6: 15d6t5 4 Drain Resist: 11d6t5 0 ouch that’s a P wound mod now. [/Spoiler]
As if his self doubts had enraged his totem, Bobby felt the searing pain of the Mana lance through him. He ignored it for the moment and began to run in a deceptively fast lope. The form allowed him to wear the trodes and the goggles, so it was easy to find AM.
As the silverback gorilla entered the dark flat, he hoped that noone in there had a gun ready for such an eventuallity…
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AM is happy that Bobby turns in to help them, but a bit surprised that he chose to do so as a Silverback Guerrilla. Shapeshifting on itself is a sacred tradition among Iktomi’s followers, and she appreciates the gesture – but many people would not let a Gurrila carry their son.
She says in a confident, and authoritative voice “This is Bobby, he is with me, and a person. Let him carry your son. Hurry before he bleeds out.”
Once at the car, she places a blanket from the trunk on the back seat and says “Keep him warm. ” she thinks and says “… she would like to add “and try not to bleed on our leather seats, but she shuts up. The great spider is again mocking my attachments and my insecurities.” she thinks.
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Bobby carried the boy carefully over his shoulder, hanging his head down to make his breathing easier. Once at the car he stoped. The impressive strength of this form was in part due to a relative lack of fine control. So it was quite a bit of a challenge to put the boy down without hurting him more. The car wasn’t meant to have a form like his ride inside – the increased mass made the car sag down precariously. Still, he might need the power and since he didn’t want to risk getting another mana burn, he kept it up for the ride – despite the cramped conditions.
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